


Particles of Gravity

by AstroPhantom



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Body Horror, F/M, Family, Gen, Gore, Horror, Hurt/Comfort, Mabel Pines Appreciation Week 2015, Poor Ford, Summer Romance, one-shot collections, summer fun, sweater, water balloon fight
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-17
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-08-20 08:50:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8243497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AstroPhantom/pseuds/AstroPhantom
Summary: A collection of my Gravity Falls one-shots, trying to get scientific confirmation. In the meantime, float on and enjoy!





	1. Gravitons (Chapter List)

**Welcome to my _Gravity Falls_  one-shots!**

This is a collection of my one-shots for  _Gravity Falls_  (similar to my  _Shots of Ectoplasm_  for  _Danny Phantom_. If you're looking for those, you're at the wrong bar).

A wide span of "gravitons" (theoretical particles of gravity) will fill this particular void of digital-universe soon, so strap yourself down and enjoy!

* * *

**Particles of Gravity ::: List of Gravitons**

** _\- Denotes fic that gives these shots their M-rating (just in case)._

_Ch. 2-8_ :  **Mabel Pines Appreciation** **Week 2015**

2.  **This Time Around** **  
** 3.  **Unlocked Minds** ** **  
** 4.  **Most Diabolical Crunch I've Ever Heard!  
** 5.  **A Week in a Bottle** **  
** 6.  **Dreamin'** **  
** 7.  **On the Verge**  
8.  **Heat of the Battle**

_Ch. 9-?_ :  **To be determined...**

9\. In progress...

* * *

Best enjoyed in the vacuum of space. :)


	2. This Time Around

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mabel Pines Appreciation Week - Day 1: Favorite Sweater

Stan sighed as he scratched at his shoulder and watched the vivid multi-colored tumbling of clothes in the dryer. The timer said two more minutes, but to him it felt like twenty.

After thirty-plus years of doing laundry on a consistent basis, Stan still hated it with every fiber of his being. It just took up too much of his already-precious time, time he could be using to con another dollar, or work on the portal, or just _anything else_.

But now he was forced to do triple his usual load of laundry, all because he lost a bet to Mabel. Who knew the kid could do ten cartwheels in a row while listing different flavors of pie?

And so for the next month, Stan had to do Mabel’s laundry, and boy, did she have a lot of sweaters.

Eventually, the dryer beeped that it was done and he kicked a laundry basket in front of it. He began taking out the sweaters and skirts within by the handful, marveling at just how many there were, and dropped them into the basket.

The monotony of the chore continued until, on the umpteenth handful, Stan was alerted to attention by resistance. He paused for a second, then grimaced in determination and gave a hard tug to the clothing. It finally gave, and he nearly fell backwards in a flurry of sweaters.

When he regained his balance and looked down at the origin of trouble, however, he gasped in panic. Apparently, one of Mabel’s sweaters had been stuck – was  _still_  stuck – in the drum of the dryer. Stan followed the thread of yarn that was snagged in the machine to the bundle in his hand and cautiously pulled out a red sweater with Waddles’ face on it – one of Mabel’s favorites.

“Oh no. Oh, no no no  _no_!”

Stan shook his head repeatedly and carefully plucked the pulled strand from the dryer so he could hold the sweater up and better assess the damage. Part of the right sleeve had gotten caught and stretched out, which had tightened the sleeve shut at the elbow. It looked pretty bad.

He was going to have to tell Mabel. Show her.

“Damn it…” he grumbled at the wall. He hated seeing his niece sad, much less being the cause of that sadness. Yet another reason to despise doing laundry.

Begrudgingly resolved to his fate, Stan shoved the sweater into the basket of others, picked the load up, and shut the dryer door before trekking upstairs to the kids’ room in the attic. With a courtesy knock he gently pushed the door open.

Mabel was laying cheerfully on the ground, a purple crayon in her hand as she colored in a picture of some fantasy world. Her head bopped along to a Sev’ral Timez CD playing on her boombox. Waddles was curled up next to her as he napped the late afternoon away. Dipper was nowhere to be found.

“Hey, kiddo,” Stan began, placing the basket of clothing at the foot of her bed. “Your laundry’s all done.” He sat down on her mattress to watch her work.

“Thanks, Grunkle Stan!” Mabel chimed in return.

He smiled back, all while trying to think of ways to stall the inevitable, and asked, “Whatcha working on there?”

She laid her crayon down and held up her drawing for him to see. A bunch of horned figures littered the page. “It’s a battle of narwhals versus unicorns,” she explained.

“Hehe, nice.” Stan leaned back against her bed as she went back to coloring. He tried to think of how to word the bad news in the least upsetting way. But just as he was about to open his mouth, he clamped it back shut instantly.

For whatever reason, the memory of Ford yelling at him after he had  _accidentally_  broken Ford’s perpetual motion machine came back to Stan in a flash. That had been the most heartbreaking moment of his life, and suddenly the associated guilt weighed down on his train of thought. His present situation felt all-too-similar, and he didn’t want Mabel yelling at him like his own twin had. Besides, he didn’t want to spoil her good mood.

“Grunkle Stan, are you okay?”

Mabel’s question tore him out of his thoughts, but the worry still lingered. He shook his head and answered, “Uhh, yeah. I, uh…I…wanted to see if you and your brother wanted to go get pancakes for dinner.”

A grin splayed across her face and she sat up on her knees. “Awesome! I’m in!”

“Great! Then…why don’t you go find Dipper and go get in the car? I’ll be down in a second,” he suggested as he stood up and stretched his limbs out.

Stan watched as Mabel ran out of the room in excitement. Once he heard her footsteps fade away on the stairs, he rifled through the newly-cleaned sweaters he had brought up and snatched the ruined red one out. He then took some of Mabel’s knitting supplies sitting in a bin in the corner of the room, and went to go hide everything in his own bedroom.

He couldn’t disappoint another family member with his screw-ups, especially not Mabel, and he sure as heck wasn’t going to dampen her spirits by telling her one of her favorite  _self-made_  sweaters was ruined. No, he was going to fix it himself. Stan Pines was going to knit.

* * *

When the Pines got back to the Mystery Shack that night and Stan eventually got the kids to bed, he waited about an hour before he retrieved the sweater and knitting supplies from his room and laid them out on the kitchen table.

When he actually sat down to get to work however, he froze in his chair. What was he doing? He didn’t know how to knit.

Sighing, Stan looked down at the table and closed his eyes to try to conjure up an image of one of the countless times he’d seen Mabel with knitting needles and a ball of yarn in her lap. He opened his eyes back up and picked up the ball of red yarn, staring apprehensively at it. He could do this. He had to, for Mabel.

Step by step, he prepared himself for the task at hand, trying to match exactly how Mabel would have knotted the yarn, held the needles. Finally, he was ready to start.

When he first tried to stretch the elbow of the sweater back out, the material thankfully slid back into place, which helped to pinpoint the problem area better. There was a huge hole on the outer side of the sleeve where the stitching had come undone by being pulled this way and that. It reminded Stan of the tape in an old VHS movie being stretched out in a heap. With the problem assessed and nothing else left to do, he set to work on patching up the hole.

At some point, probably around six or seven in the morning, Stan realized he had fallen asleep when he felt a finger poke his nose. He shot up in his chair and blinked away the sleep as he looked around the kitchen covered in the early gray light of the sun. Mabel was standing next to him, a curious look on her face, and the sweater laid balled up on the table, as if he had used it as a pillow. He immediately covered it clumsily with his arms.

“Grunkle Stan? What are you doing with my Waddles sweater?” Mabel inquired. Her voice was still groggy from sleep as she rubbed her eye with her fist.

“Uhh…”  _Think fast, Stan_ , he thought to himself. “I can’t tell you. You’re having a nightmare. Go back to bed.”  _Smooth_.

She gave him a skeptical, disapproving smirk and crossed her arms in response. “Stan…”

For a well-established con man, Stan had nothing to answer the boring guilt of her niece’s stare. The moment he had been trying to avoid had finally come around to kick him in the pants.

“Alright. I…I had-When I did your laundry yesterday, the sleeve got caught in the dryer and got ruined. I wanted to fix it before I gave it back to you, but…here. This was the best I could do. Sorry, kiddo.” He handed the sweater to her and quickly looked away to avoid the impending onslaught of hatred.

Mabel held the sweater up in front of her and instantly saw Stan’s repair attempt. There was a couple of layers of yarn on the right elbow trying to hold a significant hole together, and in the center of it was a knot about the size of a small olive.

She lowered the sweater from her view to see Stan looking out the window, bracing for her response. Her face melted into a sincere smile over her uncle’s gesture and concern for her feelings, and she slipped the sweater over her head before climbing up onto the chair closest to him.

“It’s okay, Stan.”

He turned back towards her and was surprised to see her wearing the sweater. “Really? I ruined it though.”

Now it was Mabel’s turn to be surprised. “Why would you think that? It was the dryer’s fault.”

“Yeah, but it’s one of your favorite sweaters, and you made it yourself, and I just made it even worse by trying to fix it,” he lamented gruffly, gesturing to her arm.

She took another good look down at her elbow and rolled the knot between her fingers. “It’s actually not that bad, Grunkle Stan. I can clean up what you did and it’ll be okay, honest.”

His eyes implored hers, trying to find her forgiveness, but remaining unconvinced. “Really?”

“Hey, it’s even better now, actually, because now I’ll know that it was worked on by you as well, and that makes it even more special because it shows that you care. So, thanks for improving it!” Mabel got up from her chair to give him a hug around the waist.

Stan laughed and breathed a sigh of relief as he patted her shoulder. “Thanks, kid. Now, how about I make you some breakfast, huh? Scrambled eggs sound good?”

“Okay! I’ll go wake Dipper,” she answered, her mood even brighter now that her uncle was happy again.

As she left the room, Stan watched her and stood up to start cooking, a big grin on his face. Perhaps he had jumped to conclusions too soon. Sure, he goofed up a lot when it came to his family, but that didn’t mean they would all respond negatively every time. Mabel had been forgiving, and who knew? Maybe Ford would be too, next time around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this may be a day late, and it may follow Stan more than Mabel, AND it might be really fluffy, but I assure you it is definitely about Mabel and one of her sweaters.
> 
> (Yes the chapter title is a Michael Jackson song.)
> 
> (And welcome to my Gravity Falls one-shots!)


	3. Unlocked Minds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *WARNINGS: for gore, body horror, and mutilation.*
> 
> Mabel Pines Appreciation Week - Day 2: Favorite AU

“One…two…three! Go Soos go!”

Mabel and Wendy laughed as Soos began to spin himself around on a baseball bat in the dirt outside the Mystery Shack. It was an incredibly slow business day, so much so that Stan had decided to catch up on as many errands as possible in town, and Dipper had gone exploring to gather some items Ford had requested from the lab. That left the three of them to blow off some steam by playing games in the front yard.

Once Soos had counted to thirty, he looked up from the end of the bat and immediately started falling to his right. Dizzily, he tried and failed multiple times to steer himself towards the amused Wendy and Mabel, who had a candy bar waiting for him as his prize.

“Come on, Soos! Follow my voice!” Mabel shouted from the porch of the Shack’s gift shop. “To your left! No, your other left!”

“I’m really dizzy you guys! Why do – whoa! – you guys keep moving around so much?” Soos yelled out in disorientation. At some point, he ended up tripping over his own feet and fell face-first in the dirt. “Uhh, a little help, dudes?”

Wendy and Mabel, still laughing, stood up and went to help Soos get back on his feet.

“You okay, Soos?” Wendy asked once he was standing again. His knees still seemed wobbly, but he held strong and took the offered candy bar from her.

“Yeah. How long did I last that time though?” His eyes lit up as he unwrapped the chocolate and took a bite.

Mabel checked her stopwatch. “About…forty seconds.”

“Sweet! That’s my personal record! I wonder how-”

His sentence fell short as Mabel cut him off. “Wait! Did you guys hear that?”

Wendy and Soos gave her confused, surprised stares, ultimately shaking their heads.

“What’d you hear?” Wendy prodded.

“It…it sounded like a scream. Very quiet though, like it was underground…” Her eyes shot wide in realization of who it could be, and she started running back to the Mystery Shack. “I’m gonna go check on Ford. Be right back!”

The other two watched her disappear inside, then went back to chatting.

Inside the gift shop, Mabel made a beeline for the vending machine and typed in the code she’d gotten to know so well over the past few weeks. Only most of those times didn’t have a sense of dread growing with each successive press of a button.

Once she hit the “3,″ the hidden door opened with a pneumatic hiss and she made her way down the stairwell and to the elevator. The only reason she was down here was because Dipper and Stan were gone, and a scream probably meant an emergency. Right? Her reasoning did little to calm her nerves. If Ford really was in trouble, which would be saying something for a man with his background, she’d probably be next to useless.

And boy, was she right.

As Mabel got off the elevator and crept past the walls of beeping, flashing machines, she could hear muffled stunted gasps for breath and hacking coughs coming from the room where the portal had once stood in silent glory. Her blood ran icy cold; those sounds were definitely coming from Ford.

The door to the portal room was eerily stuck open, as if someone had jammed its wiring. As she trepidatiously crossed its threshold and peeked around the corner to the left, Mabel nearly screamed herself.

Ford was on his hands and knees, holding his head with one hand, turned towards the wall. His arms were shaking and he seemed ready to collapse. The faint light of the basement glinted off a crimson red puddle on the ground underneath him.

He must have heard her come into the room, because he suddenly turned to her, shuffling himself along against the palm of his right hand. And it was then that Mabel saw the horror that had caused his scream.

Just underneath Ford’s hairline and along his temples was a thick, jagged line cut deep into his skin. Blood streamed out of it and down his face, dripping off his nose and chin. His hair was matted down with it as if he – or someone else – had grabbed at his scalp in agony, and small nicks and bruises peppered his neck. To the left of him, thrown aside carelessly, was a sheet of thin metal bent roughly into a U-shape, blood clinging to it like rain on a window. In a terrifying moment of realization Mabel realized what it was: Ford’s metal plate that he had installed into his head to keep Bill out. Dipper had told her about it, but she’d never really believed it until now.

Returning her focus to Ford, she watched as he reached out the hand that had been holding his head to her. Where it had been covering was a hole about two inches wider than the rest of the cut lining his forehead, his skull exposed through a rim of red. Subconsciously, she backed up a few steps.

“Mabel…” Ford strained out, a choked sob breaking through his usually rigid demeanor. “Get out…now.”

She ignored his command, confusion blindsiding her. “Grunkle Ford, what’s going on?”

“Bill…possession. A-ambushed…” he said between deep, shaking breaths. He was barely able to point towards the portal’s reactor beam’s pit before he grabbed his head again.

She took a timid step forward to peer around the short wall of the pit to see none other than Gideon lying on the ground out cold. Nearby him were a pair of pliers and a knife. Putting two and two together, Mabel quickly deduced what had happened: Bill, possessing Gideon, had somehow gotten into the lab and cut open Ford’s head with the knife. Then, with the pliers, he had forcibly yanked his metal plate out, right off of his skull. Which meant Ford was vulnerable.

A shiver ran down her spine, not only for what her uncle had just suffered through, but also for the fact that since Gideon was unconscious (or possibly worse), that meant Bill was lingering somewhere in the room.

She began to walk towards Ford to help him somehow, but he immediately put a hand up to halt her in her tracks.

“You need to–” He spit out blood as another cough wracked his frame. “–leave now.”

“But Grunkle F–”

“Now!  _Go_! Before he gets–” Too late.

Mabel’s feet seemed frozen to the ground as she watched Ford nearly collapse on himself and let out a loud, echoing yell of pure pain before a sudden calm washed over his body. He then silently stood up and threw his glasses to the side to reveal a set of yellow wolfish eyes paired with a maniacal grin. Bill had possessed him, and his eyes mixed with the mutilated face was a nightmare-come-true that Mabel didn’t even know she had.

“Now this is more like it!” Bill remarked following a laugh. “I finally have my favorite meat puppet back!”

Her mind kicking back into gear, Mabel took that as her cue to bolt out of there, not waiting to see what Bill was going to do. She ran into the elevator and frantically pressed the up arrow button. Panic and adrenaline spiked as she saw the possessed Ford coming after her in determination until the doors finally,  _thankfully_  closed.

The ride up seemed painfully slow, and she paced anxiously around the tiny box, trying to wrap her mind around what was going on. Obviously Bill possessing Ford was very bad news, especially in a mind so powerful and intelligent. What was he going to do now that he had his connection to the human world? And of course, there was the matter of how Bill had come to possess, and later betray, Gideon in the first place.

Finally, the elevator dinged and the doors slid open, allowing her to race up the stairs and out of the still-open vending machine. She shut it with a forceful slam, causing some of its snacks to come loose, and made a beeline for the front door of the gift shop.

Running out into the front yard, Mabel swiveled her head desperately around in search of Soos and Wendy. They needed to do  _something_ to save Ford and stop Bill. But where were they?

“Looking for someone?”

Her heart nearly stopped at the voice. She turned around to see that Bill had caught up to her, standing casually in front of the porch. “You! What have you done with my friends?”

“Oh, let’s just say I…hung them up to dry.” He proudly pointed up at a tree, where Mabel saw Soos and Wendy dead, each impaled on their own tree branch all the way to the trunk, their bodies sagging with lifelessness.

In that moment, Mabel couldn’t stop herself from bursting into tears. The two people she had considered as family were murdered, her real family was not around to help her, and the uncle she had just gotten to know was being used against her. She felt beyond helpless as hope began to dwindle.

She glared back at Bill through blurry vision. “You–you’re a monster!”

He merely chuckled in response. “Yeah, what’s your point?”

_Oh god, oh god, oh god. This is impossible_ , she thought. “What do you even want, you freak?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I have your uncle, and once I get rid of you and the rest of your family, this world will be mine!” Bill started to come at her and she retreated until she tripped and fell on the ground.

“Someone will stop you if I can’t! Dipper will! Stan–” A thought suddenly crossed Mabel’s mind and she stared suspiciously at him. “Wait…how did you even get  _in_  the Shack? Ford and Dipper protected it with a shield.”

“Aha! Just because I can’t possess anyone inside the shield, doesn’t mean I can’t take over someone on the outside and get past it. Once I got in with that pork chop Gideon, I just had to remove one unicorn hair and then taking over ol’ Ford’s mind was a  _slice_.”

“But…I-how did you get past us?” Her heart was filled with guilt for not stopping him before it had gotten this far.

Bill stood towering over her now, and effectively pinned her down with Ford’s boot on her shoulder. His eyes gleamed in amusement. “You should’ve kept that back door locked, kid. Now hold still.”

The last thing Mabel saw was Ford’s red six-fingered hand reaching for her face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So…Depravity Falls…seems to be right up my alley.


	4. That’s the Most Diabolical Crunch I’ve Ever Heard!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mabel Pines Appreciation Week - Day 3: Waddles

As much as Mabel liked going on adventures with Dipper or hanging out with Candy and Grenda, she relished lazy rainy days. Why? Because that meant she got to spend the entire day lounging around with her favorite pig in the whole world, Waddles.

With thunder rumbling on outside, and Dipper helping Ford with research yet again, Mabel and Waddles had the living room to themselves to watch television all day while she caught up on knitting new sweaters and ate from a bowl of CornCornos. Waddles was laying at her feet, shifting between napping and eating from his own bowl of chips.

Mabel was perfectly content to not move from the worn yellow chair until Stan told her to go to bed once it was well past sunset. Luckily, Gravity Falls Public Television had an all-day  _Duck-tective_  marathon going on, so it seemed she wouldn’t have to.

That is, until she ran out of blue yarn for knitting.

Groaning an “Oh darn it!” Mabel slid unwillingly off the chair until her feet hit the ground, and then pushed herself up to a standing position.

“I’ll be right back, Waddles,” she said with a stretch of her arms and a pat on her pig’s head. He let out a receptive oink in response. Then she headed into the hallway and up the stairs to her and Dipper’s room.

The attic was eerily quiet, even with the rain pounding on the roof just above her head. A shiver wracked her spine; for a summer storm, it was unusually cold.

Pulling her sleeves down her arms, she entered her bedroom and wandered to the foot of her bed to search her basket of yarn for the blue one she was looking for. Eventually, she spotted it and pulled it out. “Aha! Gotcha!” she exclaimed as she grinned smugly at the ball of blue.

“Well well well…”

Mabel dropped the yarn as she jumped in shock at the sudden voice behind her. Apprehensively, she turned to see the now-familar demon triangle floating just above the ground, his cane resting over his shoulder – or what would be his shoulder, anyway – and he giving her a literal evil eye.

“Wha…what do you want, Bill?” she asked, pointing a shaking finger at him. “I’m really not in the mood for your schemes today.”

“Hear me out, kid. I just wanted to see if you would knit me a sweater. You got all that yarn…” Bill’s coaxing voice oozed deceit.

If it had been anyone else, Mabel would have made a run for it with that tone, but this was Bill Cipher she was dealing with. She had to play it safe and use her mind to get rid of him. “Like I’d ever make you anything! You’re evil and are nothing but trouble!”

“But I would repay you…” He began twirling his cane around on his hand.

Mabel raised a disbelieving eyebrow and smirked. “Ha! Not falling for that. Whatever you’re up to, I’ll stop you!”

Bill’s body began to hum red in an intimidating bout of anger. “Oh really?!” he shouted at her, his voice rising to a shrieking level. “I’m a being of pure power and energy! There’s no way you can stop m–AAAH! What is happening?!”

Surprised at the sudden outburst, Mabel stood up from the cowering position she had taken against him to see a very peculiar, if not hilarious, sight.

Waddles had come to Mabel’s rescue, and was biting down on Bill’s leg, dragging him out of the air and onto the floor.

“What is this creature doing to my leg?!” the one-eyed triangle wailed. Desperately, he began hitting Waddles on the snout with his cane, but it was to no avail. “Ow! Get off of me, you swine!”

Mabel could only watch on in astonished amusement as her pig laid on the floor and began to gnaw at Bill as if he were a dog with a bone. Bill just continued to scream in agony at the torture.

Suddenly, Ford and Dipper burst into the room, both armed with futuristic-looking laser guns, swinging them around to scope out the room for danger.

“What’s going on?!” Ford asked her as he checked her over for any sign of harm. “We thought we heard Bill from my room!”

“You…did…” Mabel stated as she swung her arm out to gesture at the scene before her.

Both of the boys’ heads followed her hand to see Waddles chewing on Bill’s top hat. His little hooves held down the demon’s arms and legs.

Ford’s jaw dropped to the floor, and he and Dipper holstered their guns. “I-I don’t believe it. What…how…?” he sputtered out, still dumbfounded.

Mabel shrugged and answered, “Waddles and I were eating nachos downstairs, and Bill surprised me when I came up here to get some yarn, and…Waddles must have followed me, because all of the sudden he just jumped in out of nowhere and glomped down on Bill’s leg. I think he mistook him for a giant chip…”

Ford and Dipper shared a sidelong glance, before all three of them began to laugh at the situation.

Bill took note of this while struggling uselessly to push himself out of Waddles’ grip. Glaring at Ford, he yelled, “Shut up, Sixer!”

Shaking his head, Ford leaned down on his knees to catch his breath. “Sorry, Bill, but you’re not in charge of my mind anymore. And after this, I don’t think you’ll be in charge of anybody’s mind for a loooong time.”

“I’m gonna get you back, Stanford! I’m gonna get you all back, and this stupid–Ow! Ahh! Cut that out!” Bill cried out mid-sentence as Waddles had started to eat at his bottom-right corner. His eye flinched with every bite and gnaw.

Kneeling down all the way to the ground, Ford scratched behind Waddles’ ears, eliciting an oink between bites. Approvingly, he chuckled, “Good pig.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not really sure what to say about this one, except I think this is what some would call a crack-fic. Also, Bill has a physical form, but there’s no opened rift or anything. Credit (blame) for this amazing idea goes to peacexfreedom. Thank you for this brilliance to work with. XD


	5. A Week in a Bottle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mabel Pines Appreciation Week - Day 4: Favorite Ship

Mabel remembered the day the bottle letters stopped coming very well.

It was the week after Mermando had told her that he was being forced against his will to marry the Queen of the Manatees to prevent an underseas civil war. While she had been beyond heartbroken, she had to take solace in the offered shred of hope that he promised to continue to write her. In Mabel’s mind, he still liked her, despite his arranged marriage, and she let that thought spur her on.

And so she waited. She had arrived at the Gravity Falls pool around 3:30 PM that Friday, about fifteen minutes before Mermando’s bottled messages would pop out of the pool drain.

For the first twenty minutes or so, she dipped her feet in the edge of the pool and kicked them about lazily, whirling the water around, while she leaned back on the pool deck and watched the clouds go by. But when she realized that the usual arrival time had passed and she hadn’t heard the familiar splash of bottles hitting the water, she sat straight up.

For someone who didn’t own a watch, Mermando was unusually punctual. As Mabel pondered this fact, she slid her legs out of the water and laid on her stomach, resting her head on her hands and staring desperately at the water.

The next thing she knew, a shrill whistle was rousing her from her wait, and Mr. Poolcheck’s voice grated out with the announcement that the pool was closing for the night. Mabel whipped her head back to the empty, still water in front of her, and tears stung her eyes as the sting of a new sunburn registered along her back and legs.

Her walk back to the Mystery Shack was a pitiful one.

Not even a week, and Mermando had already broken his promise to write. Perhaps he had been forbidden to do so, but her heart couldn’t stop assuming the worst: he had fallen in love with his new bride, and Mabel had been forgotten. Either way, she cried herself to sleep early that night, shunning any and all of her family’s attempts to comfort her.

* * *

The following week was filled with inner turmoil for Mabel. On the one hand, she was still very much heartbroken. But on the other, her family and friends had been able to eventually cheer her up, even to the point of allowing her to assume the least hurtful scenario: Mermando simply had been forbidden to write her anymore.

But that thought reignited a small flicker of hope in her. Perhaps Mermando would soon restart sending her messages, only now though in covert privacy. The idea of a secret romantic correspondance began sounding more appealing with each and every day to her.

And so when Friday came around again, Mabel let her one last hope lead her to the pool at the usual time. And an hour later, her hope had been crushed all over again.

Only this time, instead of going back to the Shack afterwards, she found herself going to the lake with trudging steps.

She wasn’t able to cry this time for some reason. Instead, she sat on the edge of the dock with a depressed sigh and stared down at her reflection. It rippled casually back at her, elongating her frown. “It’s not fair,” she told it. Another stronger ripple answered her.

She continued on, comforted by the water’s ability to simply listen. “Mermando was the only guy this summer to actually like me for me, and now he’s just…gone…forever.”

“Are you so sure about that?”

Mabel’s eyes popped wide open. She was sure she was going crazy and just imagining things, but had that been Mermando’s voice? A splash of water underneath the dock followed, and a second later, her suspicions were confirmed as Mermando’s toothy grin greeted her.

“Did you miss me?” he asked in his Spanish accent.

Mabel nearly fell into the lake in shock, but squealed in glee to answer him, a huge, beaming smile overtaking her face. “I thought- how did you- why are you here?!” she finally asked.

Mermando shook his head and sank to his shoulders in the lake. “I ran away from home, which is why I couldn’t send you messages. I just couldn’t go through with the arranged wedding.”

Her heart fluttered at the possible implication, but she forced her most pressing question of  _Why?_  down with another. “But what about the civil war between your family and the Queen of the Manatees’?”

“I left a letter explaining everything, but all I can do now is hope they can either replace me or just settle their differences.” He grimaced for a second, then smiled and grabbed Mabel’s hand off of the edge of the dock. “But none of that matters to me anymore. They can’t force me to marry someone I don’t love…”

Suddenly, Mermando pulled Mabel into the water, and she laughed it off despite the cold temperature and now-drenched clothing, only to be pulled in for a kiss by the merman. Her heart nearly pounded out of her chest as he finished his sentence from before with dazzling charm. “Because I am here to stay. With you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeeeeey…so that Mabel Pines Appreciation Week that started in November…January isn’t too late to finish it, is it? Because that’s my plan, so I can say I got something done before the finale.
> 
> Super sorry this took forever, and this particular fic sucks after all this time, but I’m so happy I finally got this one done! Oh, and unlike Dipper, I DO care for Mermando! ;)
> 
> Also, bonus, non-related headcanon: one of the reasons Mabel’s castle in Mabeland was on the beach is because that way she could be close to Mermando’s home. :)


	6. Dreamin’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mabel Pines Appreciation Week - Day 5: Family/Friend Bonding

“Okay, dawg. Whose house first?”

Mabel pondered the question momentarily, mentally imagining the top of her guest list. “Uhhm…Grenda’s. It should be the closest from here.”

“Grenda’s it is.” Soos cranked up his truck’s engine and pulled away from the curb as Mabel fastened her seatbelt and stared out the window. The truck rolled past the Gravity Falls High School marquee, and she read its message as if it was a death sentence: “NO ESCAPE.”

After about a minute into the car ride, Mabel let out a deflated sigh, her chin resting on the edge of the door against the window. Soos glanced over at her with worried eyes. He was starting to regret suggesting the high school as a birthday party location. He just hadn’t known there would be high school registration today of all days. “Hey, you okay, hambone?” he prodded.

Another sigh. “Is high school really as bad as Wendy says it is, Soos?” She sounded so…let down, and it tugged at his heartstrings.

“I…well…yeah. It kinda is.”

“Really?” she asked, devastated, as she finally turned to him. “Even for you?”

Soos nodded as he took a left into Grenda’s neighborhood. “Yeah…people would laugh at me just for wearing dinosaur shirts.”

Mabel gasped and brought a comforting hand up to his arm. “Oh Soos, I’m so sorry. But why would anyone do that?”

“I’m telling you, teens can be vicious. They’ll pick on you for anything.” Mabel’s arm jerked back and she seemed to shrink back in her seat at this news, and Soos realized he had been too blunt. He quickly amended, “But hey! It doesn’t have to be all bad.”

“Really?” She imperceptibly loosened her muscles just a bit.

“Yeah! After a while I just blocked out all the bullies and focused on being me and working at the Mystery Shack! And I’m still happy today.” The truck pulled up to a stop sign, and Soos took the opportunity to lean over and whisper, “The secret? Never stop being a kid, at least on the inside.” He then sat back up straight and rolled through the intersection. “Why do you think Mr. Pines calls me a man-child all the time?”

Mabel giggled and Soos took this as a victory, however small. “Thank you, Soos. That helps a little.” The giggle quickly dissipated back into dread. “But I still wish I could always be a kid, all the time.”

“Hey, I get ya, dude,” he agreed. “If I didn’t work at the Shack, I would play video games all day like I did when I was a kid.” He stared ahead into the windshield, his mind going on autopilot. “And eat cookies, and ride trains, and read comics…”

“That sounds like an amazing dream!” Mabel noticed with excitement as her heart went out in support for Soos.

“It is! I used to think of a place that had all this stuff all the time.” He brought up a hand to wave it through the air as he said, “Soosville. It even had my own pet dinosaur I could ride around on. And a candy buffet open twenty-four-seven.”

Mabel’s eyes grew in amazement. “Oh man! I wish that was real for you, Soos. I would die to have a place like that for myself. Only instead of a dinosaur I would ride around on Waddles,” she exchanged jokingly as the creative side of her mind woke up and began to imagine a magical place all her own. “And I would have yarn everywhere, for easy knitting. And stuffed animals growing on trees, and Sev’ral Timez would be there…”

“Could I be there?” Soos interjected.

She laughed cheerfully in response. “Only if I can be in Soosville.”

“Deal. And what would yours be called, dude?”

Sitting back in her seat, she thought for a second before giving a mini shrug. “Mabeland, probably.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY. Aaaagh. I swear on my own grave I will finish this before the finale. I also have another idea for a little project I would like to get done before then, so keep an eye out. But for now, enjoy this little scene that fits into “Dipper and Mabel vs. the Future.”


	7. On the Verge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mabel Pines Appreciation Week - Day 6: Favorite Moment

Long-held frustration bubbled up inside me like a fresh wound. Hearing Stanley rehash what he had done to my perpetual motion machine brought back old memories of how he had cost me my dream school, how I had to make do with Backupsmore, and how, after all that time of dimension-hopping and surviving on instincts in the portal, I still couldn’t find a way to forgive him, at least not for that.

We glared out of spite at each other as his story settled into the air of the basement, before we turned our backs on each other. I tried to focus on my journal in front of me. It had been so long since I had seen it and yet it felt comforting, natural to be writing in it again. And boy, did I have a lot to write.

However, my attention was interrupted by a cry from Mabel, my great-niece that I had just discovered I had. I pretended to not notice and keep my focus on my journal, but internally I took in what she was saying.

“This story’s so sad!” she exclaimed, and I had to hold in a grimace.

Because it was sad. As much as I despised what he actually did, I couldn’t stand the fact of what he had taken away even more: my dream school, my future, and my best friend. Sure, we were different, but he was still my twin brother, and we always had a good time together. Until he took it away with his “mistake.”

Mabel’s voice continued to drill into my ears, “I know what you two little broken teacups need-”

_Wait, what did she just call us?_

“-to hug it out!”

My pen nearly slipped out of my hand. I hadn’t hugged my brother in a very, very long time, not since…well, way before Shermie was born, that was for sure. And even then, it had been awkward.

Still, when I re-emerged from the portal a few minutes ago, Stan had welcomed me with what looked like the beginnings of a hug…and I had punched him. Some brother I was. But he had it coming! Nothing was worth restarting the portal for, not even me. And yet he had been stupid enough to do it anyway.

After making a quick note in my journal to dismantle the portal later, I took an imperceptible glance back at Stan, to see if he was heeding his niece’s suggestion. He was still facing away from me, his arms crossed. Not sure if I expected anything different, but I had that coming.

“Hug it out!”

Back to my writing. I wasn’t sure if I  _wanted_  anything different, considering the circumstances.

“Hug trains coming into the station!”

Aaaand this was getting to be a little annoying. Perhaps Mabel was a different kind of weird than I had originally assumed. I still wasn’t sure about the boy though.

The girl seemed really dead-set on getting us to hug. I didn’t want to say anything, though. It didn’t seem like my place. At least not yet anyway.

“Hug-a-palooza! 2000!” she continued on. The hope in her voice was severely underestimating our history.

Stan finally spoke up and gruffly told her, “Kid, will you knock that off? I’m trying to tell my life story here.”

I practically wanted to hug Stan just for getting her to stop, but deep down, way in my gut, something gnawed at me, like it had wanted him to give into her pestering.

Figures he wouldn’t.

Still, I couldn’t really blame the kid for trying in the first place. She seemed to have the same soft spot as her uncle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is still a Mabel moment so SHUSH! (Any chance to write more Fordsy, amirite?)


	8. Heat of the Battle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mabel Pines Appreciation Week - Day 7: Free Pick

It was quiet. Too-

“Gotcha!”

I whirled around just a second too late to see a neon-green water balloon smack me in the forehead, sending me sprawling backwards into the dirt. Glancing back up through a few loose strands of hair, I saw my assailant, Dipper run back towards the Mystery Shack, laughing like the dork he was. But it wouldn’t last long.

He was going down.

But first, I had to regroup with my teammate, Wendy.

Making sure I wasn’t being followed, I snuck around the backside of the Shack and in through the side door, then made my way to the gift shop to climb the ladder up to the roof, where I found Wendy crouching from view on the platform, our hideout. She shushed me before I even had a chance to speak, and I laid on my belly next to her.

After a few seconds, she whispered, “Okay, so I just saw Soos go back inside the Shack, to get Dipper, I think, and so they’ll probably be back out soon.”

“And that’s when we hit them?” I asked softly.

“That’s when we hit them,” she confirmed, giving me a devious smile. Together, we looked back at the cooler behind us, which was loaded with at least fifty water balloons. It was time to put the plan into action.

We had spent a few minutes earlier gauging what someone’s voice would sound like from our hideout, and as we waited for the boys to come outside, we scooted the cooler close to the edge between us.

Finally, we heard the faint shuffle of footsteps walking along the porch around the corner, and a few seconds later, voices.

“…into the Shack, but I can’t find her anywhere in there!” Dipper’s voice. He was talking about me.

Soos let out a low hum. “She must’ve escaped, dude. But we’ll find them both! Boys! Boys! Boys!”

Dipper joined in on his chant, and Wendy and I rolled our eyes silently before she gave me the nod to help her tilt the cooler forward and watch as our water balloons fell below onto the boys’ heads.

Immediately we ducked out of sight and suppressed our laughter as Dipper and Soos yelled out in shock.

“AHH! Dude! What was that?!” Soos cried out.

“Ambush!” Dipper answered, his voice squeakier than normal. “It came from the roof! Come on! Let’s cut them off from inside!”

“And…that’s our cue to skedaddle!” I said once the boys were out of earshot. “Let’s go!”

Wendy let down a rope ladder that she had found somewhere around town down to the ground, and let me go down first, then detached it and used the trees nearby to shimmy her way down so the boys would be trapped on the roof.

“Haha! They’re doomed!” Wendy grinned victoriously at me, and together we ran around towards the private entrance of the Shack, only to be halted in our tracks.

Standing there armed with sly looks and more water balloons than we could count was Soos, Dipper…and Stan. My jaw dropped. He had said he would be in town running errands all day!

“Grunkle Stan?! Wh-what are you doing?” I braced myself to dodge any sudden throws.

He just shook his head mischievously. “Mabel, Mabel. I may be old, but I’m still one of the boys. And this-” He swung his arm out wide in front of him. “-Is a boys-versus-girls water balloon fight, right?” He didn’t give me a chance to respond. “I suggest you run for it.”

Wendy and I turned on our heels and booked it, but a hail of balloons quickly bombarded us, and we ended up in a stand-off against the boys as we took one of their barrels of balloons and spent the rest of the afternoon pelting each other in the most epic water balloon fight of my life.

Dipper’s and my birthday party may have been the next day, but that fight was the best way to say good-bye to working at the Mystery Shack.

It was the perfect way to say good-bye to the best summer ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I GOT IT DONE (3 months later)! My Mabel Week fics are FINALLY done! *hides calendar with finale's date tomorrow* YAY!
> 
> This was just a little fluffy thing. I had some angstier things in mind, but I just wanted to do this in the end.
> 
> Enjoy the finale everyone! And this isn't a good-bye, but a thank-you to Gravity Falls. :)


End file.
